The song of Fire
by HauntedGirl
Summary: Suze never wanted to get more mixed with the paranormal world then she already is. But it looks like Fate has something else planned for her. On a journey to find out more about her past and who she really is, Suze is teamed up with the Winchester brothers, what else can you expect other than one hell of an adventure! SUPERNATURAL/MEDIATOR Fan-fic.
1. Chapter 1: Woman in White

**The song of fire**

**SETTING: takes place after **_**The Mediator 'Darkest Hour'**_** and **_**Supernatural**_** Season 1, episode 'Woman in white'.**

**CHANGES: Dean was born in 1985 (on January 24) instead of 1979 and Sam was born 3 years later (on May 2). Suze was born in 1990 (on December 21). The story takes place in 2006 so that makes Dean 21, Sam 18 and Suze 16.**

**A/N: I've wanted to write a **_**Supernatural/Mediator **_**fan-fic for a long time. I even started writing one before I began this. But it is way too complicated for the peace of my mind. And you know why? Because it not only happens to be a **_**Supernatural/Mediator **_**fan-fic but a **_**Supernatural/Mediator/Harry Potter/Percy Jackson/Vampire Academy/**__**Vampire Diaries **_**(****and who knows what else!) crossover fan fiction.**

**But I am not in the situation to begin writing full-time, what with school and homework. Back-to-school- month is going pretty hectic.**

**Anyway, the next chapter is in writing process and will be posted in a few days and it will be the one where Sam and Dean solve the riddles left in John's journal. While that's happening, please review and tell me what you think of the first chappy. Did I get Sam and Dean's point of view right? Is it going a little slow? Why didn't I make up more of my own dialogues rather than using the one's from the show? All questions will be answered through PM if you review.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. All rights go to Eric Kripke and Meg Cabot. Most dialogues don't belong to me either, for that matter.**

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_There is always a time in life when you look back and say 'Is this supposed to happen this way?'. What you don't realize is '__**We don't choose fate. Fate chooses us.'**_

**CHAPTER 1: Discovery**

Dean POV

I so totally knew I was in trouble when that half-bald guy pointed his greasy fingers in my direction. But when I saw Deputy Jaffe and his partner Deputy Hein, I knew I was done for. So I made a quick call to Sammy.

"Hello?"

I can hear them coming towards me , "Dude. Five-O. Take off." Which was my shortcut way of telling him that we're in trouble and he'd better get out of there. He got the message and hung up.

When I turned around I was face-to-face with two dude's in the uniform who looked like they could use a _serious_ vacation. I decided to play dumb and went, "Problem officers?"

They went straight to business, "Where's your partner?" yup, those dude's need a vacation all right.

"Partner? Um…what partner?" So, playing dumb it is.

That's when the black dude (Deputy Jaffe) signaled the other guy (Deputy Hein) to go check the cabin. I hope Sammy had the brains to get out of there. But then again, college boy thinks he's so smart he might even act like one.

The Deputy gives me a look and goes, "So, fake US Marshall, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

He looked pretty mad. And it didn't really help that my smart-ass reply was," My boobs."

And then I shot him a smirk.

I wasn't surprised when the guy slammed me on the hood of his car. "You have the right to remain silent."

Now why can't they just let us solve the 'Woman in white' case and get out of here in peace

I mean, 'college boy' gets away with all the trouble (except when it comes to Dad) but when it comes to me then it's all 'nuh uh, lets bust Dean!' So the next thing I know, I am in the car, handcuffed and on my way to the police office.

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I am sitting in the Sheriff's office (which, btw, was pretty boring) when the door creaks open and the Sheriff comes in with a cardboard box.

I looked at his name card. It read Sheriff Law.

Seriously?

A sheriff. Named _law._ They have got to be kidding me?

"So, you want to give us your real name?" Dumb officer. Does he _think_ I will give him my real name? Hmm, if they already know who I really am then it wouldn't hurt to piss them off a little, would it?

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent."

"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here." At that moment I just wanted to look at him and say 'oh honey, I think I do' but I thought better of it.

I suspect that when I was born, my rational thoughts were removed to make space for all the sarcasm. So I said," We talking, like misdemeanor kind of trouble or squeal-like-pig trouble?"

He leans in on the desk, "You got the faces of ten missing person taped to your wall along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect." He must be talking about all the victims of the Woman in White that are taped to the wall back at the room.

I snorted mentally at that. I was three when the first woman went missing. And he thinks I am a suspect! Trust the police to come up with craps like that. I took pity on him and decide to organize his messed up brain a little. "Oh, that makes sense, 'cause when the first one went missing in 88, I was three."

His face was becoming red already and I could tell that his patience was running low. "Boy, I know you got partners and one of them is an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing." Wait a minute, is he talking about Dad? How does he know Dad? Can Dad be here somewhere?

He started looking for something in the box and when he found it, he took it out and threw it on the table is was sitting in front of. The thing looked like a book…..no, a diary. It was brown and battered looking. It looked like it went through a lot. There where, I could see, lots of paper-cuttings and pictures inside it which made the thing look fat. It looked kind of familiar though. And then suddenly it clicked in my head. It is Dads journal!

Sheriff Law was looking at me like he was trying to analyze me. I tried to act as nonchalant as possible when he said, "So tell me _Dean_, what is this?" and came and sat down on the table with his oversized butt. "You see, I found your name in this after I leafed through it." He continued, "Not much I could make out though…" thank God for that! But what can you really expect from him, he doesn't seem very bright. "..I mean, this is nine kinds of crazy." O, he doesn't know half the crazy things. Lucky duck.

"But I found this too", he said as he stopped at a blank page. Well, blank except for the writings on it in what looked (and smelled) like Magic Markers. "Explain to me what this is."

I looked at the writing that I instantly recognized as Dads.

_**DEAN**_

_**CBS: N 330 LA- S 120 SF**_

_**SSW/99**_

What?!

That doesn't make any sense.

I looked up at Sheriff Law. He gave me a pointed look that said that I'd better hurry 'cause he doesn't have all the time in the world. Unfortunately, neither do I. I hope Sam's having a better luck with Constance's husband then I am with Mr. Fat-butt here. I looked back at the journal and sighed. Well, it looks like I'm not leaving this place very soon.

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Sam POV

I was sitting on the bed in our room at the motel, thinking about my conversation with Joseph Welch. I found out that he had commited adultery. Which led Constance Welch to kill her children and then commit suicide and thus become a 'woman in white' which is what women who die in the same situation become. And then they start preying on unfaithful men.

I looked up at the clock. It was almost 10. Where the hell is Dean? I hope he's not in some serious trouble.

Although, with our jobs trouble is always right down the alley. I sighed. Being a hunter can really suck sometimes.

I decided to make a fake 911 call to cops to distract 'em hoping Dean gets the message and finds a way to escape that place.

And I knew that he got it. The message, I mean. If the call I got from him fifteen minutes later was any indication.

"Fake 911 phone call Sammy, I dunno, that's pretty illegal." He mocked. I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see. He didn't even thank me.

"Your welcome." And then I proceeded to tell him all about Constance's unfaithful husband and how I couldn't understand why Dad left in the middle of a case.

Dean said that Dad must've come up with something _very_ important to leave a case like this and about the coded message. The numbers sounded like coordinates. Except the last one though, I have never heard of a place that has three coordinates. It's always two, for longitude and latitude. And 'SWS' sounds like initials rather than the name of a place. Interesting. But where have I heard 'CBS' before?

I was so busy pondering on my thoughts that I didn't notice the ghost of Constance standing on the road. My car went right through her before I stopped.

"Whoa!"

And then I looked back. She was sitting in the backseat.

She looked at me. "Take me home." Shivers ran down my spine.

Uh oh.

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**A/N: next chapter will be up in a few days. Review people.**


	2. Chapter 2: Dreams

**TSOF: DREAMS**

**A/N: I know I said that this chapter is the one where Sam and Dean find out what the code means but I just thought why not give everyone a good look at what's going on with our favorite mediator.**

**P/S: this story probably takes place about a week after 'Darkest Hour'. So if you are confused about the timeline (or were taking a nap while reading the authors note in the last chapter), let me just make it clear.**

**Chapter 2: Dreams**

Suze POV:

_All I saw was darkness around me. It was like an endless abyss of the night and I was wandering aimlessly in it. But something pricked at the back of my mind, like something was going to happen soon. And I wanted to get away, from what I didn't know but all I knew was that I had to run. Run away and never look back. Just when I was about to do exactly that, the scene changed in front of my eyes._

_I was standing in a corridor in what looked like a suburban house. I could see three doors ahead of me, two of them were closed while the other stood wide open. Unknowingly my feet carried me towards the open door while my mind said that something was about to happen. Something bad. But I didn't pay attention to my mind. What I wanted to know is what is behind that door. I finally reached it and was about to take a peek inside when suddenly I saw a flash of blonde hair and heard a ear-piercing scream. And then all I saw was fire. Yellow and red flames surrounded me mercilessly. _

_The scene changed and I saw a man who looked around the age my dad was when he died. He handed a small infant to a boy who looked about four, with emerald green eyes, eyes that looked very familiar._

_His face was stricken with fear and worry as he looked urgently at his son (at least I guess the boy was his son. They both had that kind of arrogant but good-natured face) and said-or almost shouted, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back! Now Dean, go!"_

_So, the boy's name was Dean. Why do I feel like I know him? And his little baby brother too?_

_Then the scene changed and there were two boys-one a teenager, the other was about somewhere between 20 to23. They were laughing at some joke, good humor written all over their face. The shorter one-_Dean,_ a voice said in my head-had startling green eyes and light chestnut hair. His eyes where shining with sarcasm. This was, I realized, the little boy I had seen in my dream. He was wearing this amulet around his neck, shaped like the head of a bull, on a black cord._

_And beside him was a taller boy with shaggy brown hair that fell into his eyes, which were hazel that appeared to be a mix of blue, green and brown-_Sam_, the voice in my head said this had this sensitive, intelligent and rational look about his face, which was totally unlike his brother who looked kind, funny and mischievous. They were standing beside this black car. I may not know a whole lot about cars but I recognized it as a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. And I suspect Sleepy, would kill for a car like that (unless he has a Camaro, of course)._

_Then with another flash of light the scene changed. And what I saw this time scared me more than I've ever been scared in my life. I saw blood everywhere. Then I saw a woman, her blonde hair messed up, her cold, blank eyes staring at me, emotionless. But that's before I saw the slit in her stomach with fresh blood still dripping from it. I felt like I was going to throw up._

_The next vision was a blur of faces. I think I saw Dads face too, but maybe that was just my I think I just saw about a hundred faces in a matter of seconds._

_And then I saw something that made my heart stop.A pair of cold, merciless eyes. Yellow eyes…. And I felt my blood freeze as fear seized me._

_Then I was falling into an endless pit. Invisible hands pulling me inside. And I couldn't escape. I was screaming for help._

_Falling, falling…_

I sat up in bed with a start. I was shivering and covered withsheen of sweat. My head felt like it was going to split open as a piercing headache shot through it. My breath was coming out in ragged pants. And I felt like shit.

Those yellow eyes kept flashing over and over again in my mind's eye. And for some unknown reason, they scared me.

I looked at the digital clock on my bedside table to see what ungodly hour I woke up in. The big, red neon signs read 2:30. You know, sometimes I think God really hates to let me sleeping. I mean, for the past week all I dreamt about was a certain coldhearted, sadistic bastard and a long, shadowy corridor with infinite numbers of doors and smoke licking at me heels. And now I have this nightmare about a bunch of people I don't even know. Ah, the joys of my life. Not.

I pulled off my duvet, got off the bed and went inside the bathroom. As I was washing my face my mind went back to the past week.

Here I was a week after I exorcised Maria and her Bo hunk husband and you'd think a certain ghost would realize his unbidden passion for me (snort) kiss me already? Even though he did do it –kiss me, I mean- he hasn't shown up since then, when we got interrupted by my younger stepbrother, David. And here I was thinking that finally he will understand how much I love him and tell me he feels the same way. Humph! Men, they are all the same!

Maybe I should tell Dad to kick him out of my room and get done with it! But I know I can never do that.

So, with a sigh I come out of the bathroom just to get face to face with good ol' you-know-who (and no, I am not talking about Voldemort).

"Hello Susannah."

Just with one look at his face I know that he is not here for a midnight make-out session (ha, I wish!), he is here because he felt something was wrong.

Great, just great.


	3. Chapter 3: The picture

TSOF: The picture

**A/N: So sorry guys for such a late update. I had exams for one thing and for another my laptop got confiscated so I hope you can cut me some slack.**

**Before I start the story I want to ask you guys something.**

**What do you think the codes in the first chapter mean? (There is a big clue at the end of this chappy.)  
**

**You can reply to me by reviewing or PM'ing. All replies will be greatly appreciated. I'm having big writers block for this story and I'm also a little confused but your replies just might keep me going. And even if you don't reply and just think about the questions for a minute I'll appreciate it.**

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**Chapter 3: The Picture**

Suze POV:

When you say that you have a rotten luck other people say that there is no such thing, it is only a matter of time before everything falls back into place. That is wrong. That phrase is so, so wrong. And my life is a living proof of that.

Here I was hoping to slip into bed unnoticed and lie there the rest of the night and wonder what the hell was that dream about, but now I guess I am about to be grilled by Rico Suave (Hey, the name actually suits him! I guess Paul's not wrong about some things).

"I thought I sensed something wrong. Is everything OK?"

So, Rico has noticed a disturbance in the Force. Nothing new about that. He can always tell when there is something wrong. It would've been cool if it wasn't so annoying.

I could hear the concern and worry in his voice. How sweet. Too bad he couldn't be sweet about other things too. Especially the fact that he was kissing me like there's no tomorrow just a week ago.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Why do you ask?"

"I felt this weird aura", he moved his hands, trying to explain "I-I can't explain. Are you sure everything's fine?"

His dark eyes were practically X-raying me with those dark, dark eyes, looking for a clue. It's like he thinks I'm lying. Those peat bog eyes were pulling me in, luring me, and trying to force me into telling the truth.

"Everything's _fine_, Jesse." I lied.

This time he _knew_ I was lying. That is why he took a step towards me. And then another. Uh oh. I know this theory of his. This is his corner-Susannah-and-make-her-tell-the-truth move.

"Tell me the truth, Susannah."

"I am."

"No you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No you are not."

"I _am!_" Each time I lied he took a step towards me so now we were practically standing nose-to-nose or in this case nose-to-chest since Jesse's about a foot taller than me.

"Susannah, stop making this harder. Just tell me the truth already!" His scar was glowing and was stark white against his dark eyebrows.

God, he sounds so hot when he's mad at me. Shut up, Suze. What the hell are you thinking?!

"What if I don't want to tell you the truth? I mean, why do you even care?!" I half whined, half screamed back. But the truth is that I already knew the answer to both of those questions. The answer to the first one you already know but the answer to the latter is that ever since we met Jesse had this weird brotherly (_ack!_ Please don't let it be _that_) urge to protect me. To do that he resorts to all sorts of things like spying on me, stalking me, putting his nose in my business.

Jesse ran his hand through hair which, in the past few months I have learned is a sign of frustration usually always directed at me and this time was no exception. "_Fine."_ He said through gritted teeth.

"Fine."

And then he disappeared.

Whatever. Like I care.

OK, well, I do care- I don't know why but I do care. But it's just that I just can't deal with Jesse's anger right now. Not when I have a thousand questions in my mind, all of which has something to do with the dream. Who are those people? Why am I dreaming about them? Who was that guy with the yellow eyes? Why am I scared of him? And the most important question: _why do all of them feel so familiar?_

I had seen- or thought I'd seen, anyway- Dads face in the middle of all those blurred images. Maybe I'll ask Dad if he knows any of those people. But right when I was about to call Dad in my mind I realized I just didn't have the strength.

Ugh! I feel so trashed. My eyes were drooping and my head felt heavy.

So I decided the best thing to do was to forget about the dream and get a good night's sleep. The answers are best left for tomorrow.

I headed towards the bed ready for dropping in and sleeping the sleep of the dead. Dopey doesn't call me Queen of the Night People for nothing you know.

Right at that moment a shadow fell over my bedroom. It lasted for a second and then passed away. Almost as if a car had passed by my window. But that was impossible as my bedrooms on the second floor and the road is like really not that close. It's not even on this side of the house!

I went over to the window to look outside.

A dark cloud fleeted over the moon covering the beautiful landscape of Carmel in semi-darkness. The street lamps were still turned on so that cast a white glow in some places. Little flickers of light fell on the water making it twinkle like diamonds. Stars peeping in and out as still more clouds gathered. I think it's going to rain which hasn't happened often since I moved to here. Other than that the fog had rolled in from the sea and it was just another typical night in Carmel.

Someone had left the lights of the hot tub on and it cast an eerie glow around our backyard. It was in this eerie light that I saw someone snoop behind a bush. Then the figure came out from behind and headed towards the sea. To my somewhat relief I saw that the figure was not a ghost. And to my somewhat suspicion I saw that the figure was a hooded man. I couldn't make out if the hood was of a hoodie or a cloak- weird I know, but you won't believe how some people dress nowadays. A few days ago I saw a woman dressed in a toga with this huge hat that I guess those rich ladies wore in _Titanic_. And I was in a _mall_ can you believe it? _A mall_.

Anyway, back to story. Mr. Creepy-hood-guy was walking towards the beach shooting furtive glances back at my house which made me even more suspicious that he was up to no good.

So I did what I suppose has become my signature move since I came to California. I pulled on my butt kicking outfit and climbed out of my window and landed on the porch roof. Then I jumped to land with a soft thud on the grass.

The first thing I did was hide so that Mr. Creepy-hood guy doesn't see me. And then I followed.

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Sam POV:

"Hey Sammy, I'm going out for a drink! Wanna come?" I heard Dean shout over the blaring music that was way too loud for our little motel room. Honestly I don't see what he finds so good about the band Metallica. All I can hear is a lot of electric guitars, drums and shouting. I like Iron Maiden though, but don't tell that to Dean.

I also happen to know that Dean is not going to the bar just to have a drink. He's going to stick to his 'new town, new girl' rule. We just came back from Blackwater Ridge at Lost Creek and are staying at a motel in a small town in Colorado. I think I should give Dean some 'me' time.

"No. you go ahead."

"Aw come on Sammy! What's with all the studying? You're not even in freakin' college anymore!"

"I need to do some research." When he gave me a skeptical look I added, "On the code that Dad left us."

"Oh." He didn't protest. In fact, he was as curious about the code as I was. "Well, carry on then. Hasta la vista, bro." But not curious enough I guess, to drop out on his 'new town, new girl' rule. I heard the door slam.

We still haven't figured out what that code means and it's very frustrating for me because I hate not knowing about something and Dean just wants to follow what Dad has left off.

Great. Now that I'm relieved of that horrible music I can finally work in peace.

I got my laptop, Dads journal and a pepper spray (hey, I'm a hunter! You always gotta be prepared right? There's danger around every corner) and sat on one of the single beds. I opened the journal to the page that has the code in it.

_**DEAN**_

_**CBS: N 330 LA- S 120 SF**_

_**SSW/99**_

These letters and numbers don't seem to make sense no matter how many times I look at them. I mean, I understand the first word. Dean.

'CBS' sounds familiar though. I know the full form too but I just can't remember it. It's like something that's poking me in the back of my mind.

The numbers and letters after that sound like coordinates. But they aren't exact ones. I know this because I went through maps and there is absolutely no place with coordinates like that. Maybe I should try to decipher it in a different way.

The last line makes absolutely no sense to me. What is 'SWS'? And '99'?

All I can say is if Dad wanted to confuse the shit out of us he couldn't have done a better job. Our minds were already in haywire with finding Dads journal and him being missing. And it's also confusing that Dad would just leave in the middle of a case when he never has before. I mean, what was it that was so important?

I didn't notice that while I was thinking I was unconsciously flipping through Dads journal so when a photo dropped out of it on my lap I was pretty surprised. I picked it up and looked at it.

It was a little yellowish with age and cringed at the edges. The picture was of a baby. A baby girl no older than a few months. She had a little button nose, big round eyes and a pink tinged on her cheeks. She was so cute! Oh my god, Sam you sound just like a girl!

Anyway. The girl stared at the camera with her big, emerald eyes filled with curiosity. In all of her features, it's her eyes the stood out. They were sparkling and happy. Their color as green as emeralds. There was this mischievousness and confidence in her gaze that said that 'I am going to kick serious butt someday'. I almost smiled at the picture. Almost. Because whatever admiration I had for the baby faded when I saw the letters at the bottom of the page.

SSW.

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**A/N: CLIFFHANGER! the next chappy will be up in a week, i promise.**

**R n R.  
**


	4. Chapter 4: Uncle and Vampire

TSOF: UNCLE AND VAMPIRES

**A/N: Hello my little dumplings! I'm back! Two months late but still…..**

**I'm so sorry for the delay but I had a lot to do last month like Science Fair, a Math exam and work on my upcoming fan-fic 'Outlaws'. I also happen to have gone through a horrible writers block. Which reminds me, I spent the whole due of my writers block watching Season 2 of **_**Supernatural**_** again.**

**You'll find out a lot in this chapter so pay attention cupcakes! Wow, 'cupcakes'? I think Coach Hedge is rubbing off on me. Who else is totally hooked by the world of Percy Jackson out there?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the **_**Mediator**_** series or **_**Supernatural**_**(duh!).**

**PS: If anything is confusing or you have questions then PM me or check out the Supernatural Wiki.**

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SUZE POV:

_I pulled on my butt kicking outfit and climbed out of my window and landed on the porch roof. Then I jumped to land with a soft thud on the grass._

_The first thing I did was hide so that Mr. Creepy-hood guy doesn't see me. And then I followed._

On the way to the beach I startled a cat possibly looking for a midnight snack almost to death. It _meow!-_ed and ran off towards the hills. My object of pursuit however had no trouble at reaching the beach. He strolled down the sand all the way towards the shoreline, and I was sure he would step right into the cold water until he abruptly came to a standstill.

He stared out into the horizon for some time and I thought he had fallen asleep. He looked so lost, so intent on something. And even though I couldn't see his eyes, somehow I knew they looked lost too. I noticed to my relief that he was wearing a hoodie, not a cloak- honestly I've seen way too many people with weird clothes to not get a sensory overload. He also had a worn looking duffel bag.

Right then his voice boomed out over the crashing waves and I jumped about a feet in the air. "Hello. It's about time we officially met."

I was so shocked I just stared at him with my jaw hanging open. _Is he talking to me? Why is he talking to me?_

As if he could read my mind he said, "Yes, I'm talking to you. No need to look so shocked. Now close your mouth and join me."

If possible, I was even more shocked. In fact I was so dumbfounded that all I did was stupidly do exactly what he asked. What's wrong with me?! His voice sounds as if I've heard it before. I racked my brain for some information on Mr. Creepy-hood guy but came up with a big, black zero.

I walked up and stood beside him. I was waiting for him to say something but he just looked at me all expectantly as if he wanted me to start a conversation. But when I just stared at him as if he was a monkey who just started singing the national anthem or something, he smiled. Even with the shadow that his hood cast over his face I saw his lips twitch. And for a reason beyond me, this little gesture made me relax- which I never do around creepy dudes who sneak around at night, mind you.

"Who are you?" Yes! It speaks!

"Who do you think I am?"

I hate it when people answer questions with another question. Now I felt my surprise fade and get replaced with anger and a tad bit of curiosity. So then I just started talking, "What do you mean by who I think you are? You made me follow you out here- where I'm freezing my butt off by the way- to go all Dumbledore on me! What's with the creepy hood thing anyway?"

He stared at me for five seconds and then went, "Can you repeat all that? _Slowly."_

Aw man! Not again! Why does everyone always keep asking me that? First that guard at Tad's house, then Jesse and now Mr. Creepy-hood guy. Urrgh. At least he's not laughing at me or else he'd have a right hook coming at him faster than he could say 'Holy Mary!'.

Frustrated, I yanked his hood down and the next second I was gaping at him. Again (why do I keep doing that)!

It was the same man I had seen in my dream-uh-nightmare. This was the guy who handed the little boy to the older one. Sam and Dean, I think their names were. This is their father.

He looked older then he was in my dream. Face-to-face I could see that he has warm brown eyes, shaggy brown hair and light stubble. No wonder his voice sounds so familiar. I heard it in my sleep not half an hour ago. As if that's not weird enough, I saw his whole family too.

"B-but you're the man I saw in the dream." I managed to stammer out.

"What dream?" he said, then shook his head. "Never mind. I am John. John Winchester. And there is a lot that I need to tell you. You'd better sit down." He dropped down on the sand and patted the space beside him for me.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" I asked, suspicious again.

"You can't. Now come and sit. I haven't got all the time in the world you know."

Satisfied with his answer I went and sat down beside him but unlike him I wasn't looking at the sea. I was looking at the man beside about him was unsettling but another part was making me relax in a way Dad does whenever he's around.

"Look, I now Peter hasn't told you everything about his parents an-"

I cut him off.

"Peter? Are you talking about _Dad_? You know Dad? How? Who are you?"

"I'm only gonna answer one of those questions. Yes, I am talking about your father."

"You know -uh- knew him?" I almost had a slip and told Mr. Creepy-hood guy that I happen to have the awesome (not) ability to talk to ghosts. I mentally smirked- yeah, that'd be the day when I told a random stranger that I have every day conversations with spectral visitors.

Of course, all my years as a mediator didn't prepare me for what came next.

"I happen to be his brother so of course I knew him."

What?! Brother? Dad never had a brother. I mean, sure he never talked about his family but I never I asked him about it because I thought he didn't any. If I had an uncle, I would've known. He would've told me or at least Mom about him, right? Right.

So….OH MY GOD, I'm stuck with a madman who thinks he's my uncle.

"Dad never had a brother. He would've said something if he did." I repeated whatever was going on in my head.

He looked at me, his eyes a little bright as if he was remembering a painful memory. This guy just keeps confusing me more and more.

"Did he not? Because the last time I checked we were still brothers. There's a lot you don't know."

He said the last part like there was more depth in 'a lot you don't know' then just the part that he was my uncle.

Breezes blowed by making me shiver a little. He looked around us as if he expected danger. Like something might jump out at us from the nearest palm tree and go _Boo! _or something equally weird.

I felt like saying 'Danger? In Carmel? Nah!' but instead I said, "He didn't tell me anything. How do I know your telling the truth?"

At least, that's what I tried to say. all that came out of my big mouth was, "H-he didn't…. no way…..t-truth…WHAT?!"

Yeah, I know. I should win a Nobel Prize for the mature way I'm handling this situation. NOT.

It's not every day that I get weird dreams and then someone from the dream comes to me and tells me that he's my uncle. These things take time to process. Depending on the fact that it's the truth, that is.

"Look, you weren't supposed to know this unless your life was in danger. Unfortunately your life is in danger so I have to tell you this. I can't explain you how important this is but you have to trust me. Can you do that?" His expression, the way he was looking at me, his eyes pools of sadness- I just had to nod. I mean, he looked like he was having a hard time and something about him kept reminding me of Dad and I just couldn't help myself. There was something about him that compelled me to trust him, something that told me he meant no danger. This didn't even happen in my first meeting with Jesse.

When I first saw Jesse my thoughts were, "This guy looks dangerous. Mighty dangerous." And now that I know Jesse better, I still think there is a dangerous side of him that he doesn't show anyone. I got a glimpse of his angry side in Shadowland with Paul-who totally deserved to have his nose broken, mind you.

But, whatever. Back to topic.

Reassured somewhat by my nod, he continued, "Listen carefully. I'll start from the beginning. Me and Peter were born into the Winchester family. Peter was a few years younger than me but we both had the same ability – an unique ability. Our mother was a hunter of supernatural beings. You know, werewolves, ghouls, rogue spirits, vampires-"

"Vampires! Oh man!" I just remembered Tad, his serial killer of an uncle and –of course- his dad, Count Dracula (or at least he thought he was Dracula).

He quirked an eyebrow. How does everyone –everyone except me- do that?

"You have a thing with vampires?"

"Yeah, a big misunderstanding with a no.2 pencil and a psycho."

He looked amused but went on with his story.

"Anyway, she died when Peter was two."

Oh. That's…harsh. I wonder how she died. How come Dad never said a thing?

"I'm…sorry." What else could I say?

"Don't be. At least she didn't stick around for the bad parts."

"Bad parts?"

"I'll get to that. Our father, Henry Winchester, was a Man-of-Letter. They were beholders of information, ancient scrolls about the co-existing world- the world of the supernatural. They knew a lot more about supernatural beings than hunters and, I guess that is why they considered themselves a lot better- don't know why since they were a lot similar to hunters as well, like keeping journals and all. I don't know why he married Mom and I never got the chance to ask because when we were teenagers, he just…disappeared. Never came back. It had felt like there was some kind of curse over our family."

There was an underlying pain in his voice. Who knew Mr. Creepy-hood guy had daddy issues. And what kind of a father just abandoned his children anyway?

"Me and Peter had a hard time growing up. We gave up both our parents' ways. But then I found Mary. We got married and had two boys- Dean and Sam. Sam was 4 years younger than Dean. We were happy. We had no idea that the curse was still following us." He took a shaky breath while I was listening with rapt attention. I was fascinated. "November 2, 1988, Sam was only 6 months old, his nursery caught fire. I heard Mary scream and went upstairs." His voice had gone heavy. "I s-saw her stuck to the ceiling. Then everything caught fire. M-Mary, she , well, she died that night. And I knew that something- something supernatural- had killed her."

I was quiet. He was quiet. It was so quiet that I could hear this idiot singing the national anthem of Britain in a very, very annoying and nosy voice (I just want to strangle him –if it is a 'him' that is). It's not like I can say anything. I mean, this guy went through a lot. He lost his mom, then his dad abandoned him and then his wife was murdered by a crazy, psychotic being who likes setting fire to nurseries. The worst part: Dad might've been a part of this.

He managed to continue, "After that we took up hunting. We looked relentlessly for the thing that killed Mary. We were in constant danger hunting creatures that we knew very little about and we earned quiet a name. instead of calling us John and Peter everyone who knew us just went with The Winchesters. Then your father met Helen. He decided that he had to keep her safe so he took up our mothers' maiden name, Simon. Figured that no one would know who he really is as long as he kept the name Winchester hidden. Helen didn't know that Peter had a brother and didn't need to know either. Peter moved to New York and got a decent job. He still kept in touch though. But I was reluctant. I didn't want Peter to suffer any longer- not when he was finally happy."

He took out a photo from his duffel bag and showed it to me. A little battered around the edges, there were five people looking at the camera. John and –whom I suspected was- Mary holding with one arm around each other and Uncle Johns' other hand was around a guy who looked suspiciously like…..MY DAD!

Oh gods, this guy- my uncle- is telling the truth! So now I have to add uncle and aunt as a prefix to John and Mary! And I have to have a serious chat with my dad. How come he never told me anything? All this time, I had no idea.

I noticed now that Uncle John (Should I call him uncle without getting a verification from Dad first?) seemed to be having a quiet emotional breakdown. If all that he told me really happened then this guy must be some strong stuff because he managed to continue still.

"Then when Peter found out that they were having you, we decided that there was no way we would tell you everything until it was unavoidable. After all, you have a right to know." The last part made me feel a lot less lame then I usually feel. "So now, here we are 18 years later. Sam is in college, Dean's in hunting business with me. But now, I don't know why, the paranormal world is stirring. Beings are coming into action. Creatures that were quiet before are beginning to rise and I suspect something big is going to happen. And the thing that killed Mary…I may have found it. I'm going after it."

"What is it? The thing that kill-", I stopped myself right in time. "The thing that you're hunting." I finished.

In the middle of all this craziness, I couldn't help being intrigued about what I found out. A world full of mythical beings- a world in which I might not feel like a freak. For the past seven months, Father D's tutorial mediator sessions didn't do a thing to change my views about being one but now, in this new world, I might actually fit in. well, as much as someone can fit in with vampires anyway. Then again, I shouldn't get my hopes up, I mean, what if even in the supernatural world talking to the dead is a bad thing?

"I'm not sure but it's powerful." He turned around and surprisingly (my surprise not his) held my hand. "Susannah-"

"You know my name?" I said, but then I felt stupid because he's my uncle so of course he should know my name. what kind of an uncle would he be if he didn't?

"Of course I do. What kind of an uncle would I be if I didn't?"

Touché.

"Anyway, the thing is Susannah-"

"Suze", I replied automatically.

"Suze, then. You and your family's life might be in danger." When I opened my mouth to speak he shushed me and went on. "I can't tell you why. You should ask your father later although, he won't tell you the whole thing either because we ourselves don't know. The thing is Suze, your brothers need you. Sam and Dean act like they can take over the world but even they need help to get through what's about to come."

"Oh, great. More brothers. They don't have pig-like table manners do they? When do I get to meet 'em. Will they come over or something?"

"When you get to meet them is up to you. Suze, there will be choices ahead of you. Choices that will be very hard to make. Think about famil-"

He was cut off when something jumped at us from behind. Before I could react the thing had had its (his?) arm around my neck, cutting of the air in my lungs. I saw that Uncle John had got up and was holding a dagger in his hand, ready to attack. The dagger glinted in the moonlight –silver?

What do you kill with a silver knife? I was almost too afraid to know. Then I remembered something. I am Susannah Simon, I kick ghost butt's on daily basis. I'm rough and tough and a female version of Indiana Jones minus all the tombs and ancient artifacts. OK, well, not Indiana Jones but a girl can wish right?

I tried to budge the arm with both of my hands but the hand was like iron (steel, aluminium, tin, whatever). I couldn't budge it a millimeter. Then from the corner of my eye, I spotted something white and pointy.

No way. No freaking way! If those are fangs then I am Angelina Jolie.

Of course, the dude just moved in closer and I saw that they were, in fact, fangs. And big ones, mind you. So that means I'm Angelina Jolie. Cool.

"Let her go." Uncle John's voice was ice. Apparently, he didn't hold a torch for this dude. I don't blame him.

"Or what?" a very snaky, very feminine voice said right at my ear. I almost shivered when felt the thing inch closer and closer to my neck. His arm had tightened too making me feel like those skinless chickens they hung from the ceiling in this Chinese restaurant I once went to.

Great, I thought, just great. All these years I've been dealing with murderous ghosts and now I have to deal with vampires who sound like Madonna. A very snake-ish Madonna.

When the vampires' fangs were about a centimeter away from my neck, I took my chance and head butted him as hard as I could manage. I also managed to earn a nasty pain in my neck from Mr. I-drink-blood-and-I-love-it. To my satisfaction I heard the sweet crack of nasal cartilage. The vampire roared in anger and hit me so hard I fell about two meters away, stunned and a little hurt.

Uncle John swung into action with his dagger and slashed at the vampire. Clearly experienced with what he was doing, the vamp still had the advantage of speed and strength. Uncle John swung a blow at his neck but Mr. I-drink-blood-and-I-love-it dodged and nailed a right hook at his face. With a bleeding lip Uncle John charged Mr. I-drink-blood-and-I-love-it like a bull in those Spanish bull races and hit him square in the chest.

It was like watching Van Helsing and Count Dracula or something, only with less of the long hair and weirdness. Oh, and this is not a movie and is happening right in front of me.

After several kicks and punches and all that action Uncle John managed to slash that dagger through his throat and the vampire instantly disintegrated into dust.

My newly discovered, butt-kicking uncle wiped the dagger in the sand, put it back in its leather holder, wiped his hands as if nothing happened and then said, "Many people don't know this but silver works wonders when beheading a vampire. Saves the job of cleaning up after them." As if to punctuate his words he held out his hands in a _Look at all the dust around us. Must be from the vampire I just killed _gesture. Of course there was sand all around us but that's just a whole different matter.

"Damn, they always find me. Getting kinda tired of almost being murdered. Well, I gotta run, if you don't mind." He took out this bundle out of his duffel bag and tossed it to me. Out of reflex, I caught it. Wow, this is heavy! "Ask your dad about what you find in those bags. Goodbye and good luck . your gonna need it."

With that he winked at me and ran off into the shadows up the beach road, leaving me bewildered, annoyed and a little bit overwhelmed. Where does Jesse go of when I really need him anyway?!

So I just sat there in vampire dust, thinking, _What the hell just happened to my life?_

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**OK, that was the biggest chapter I have written. 11 pages. **

**Count it as a special treat to you guys for me being so late to update. We don't usually plan our writers block do we?..**

**Also, did you notice there are a whole lot of question marks (?) in this chapter? Whats up with that!?**


	5. Chapter 5: Creepy Library

TSOF: Creepy Library

**A/N: So, this is the fifth chapter. Remember, your reviews might be the only thing that can push me to write more of this story. So please don't break my heart because I really love **_**Supernatural **_**and**_** Mediator.**_

**Also, remember Sam's girlfriend Jessica, who got killed by the Azazel? You do? Because I didn't. Yeah, totally forgot about her. But now that I remember her, I'll try to fill her in.**

**Please excuse the slangs used here. Sorry if you find it offensive. You know how Dean is. Also, this is rated T, there's nothing here that teenagers don't use often.  
**

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**CHAPTER FIVE:**

DEAN POV:

It's a shame, really, that Sammy can't be more like his big brother. Who the hell wants to sit and do research when they have a chance to party and meet up with some girls and stuff? Honestly, I don't get him. And I'm not honest about a lot of things, mind you.

He just sits among all his big, boring books and laptop and depends on logic for everything. This is just insane because what we do –hunting- is a work that defies logic. Mostly. The paranormal world doesn't like playing fair and following the guidelines –much to Sam's dismay- and likes to go straight to business. They might as well finish a gun fight with their teeth.

And most of their teeth stink. I speak from experience.

But the kid needs to have some fun. All that nerdy, geeky stuff is gonna come back and bite him in the ass someday. And then he'll be sorry that he didn't follow in my footsteps.

I'm just worried about him. He hardly ever got out of the motel room since we came back to California.

It's not because he had to leave college, that's one thing I'm sure of. He used to study at Stanford in Palo Alto, California. He was majoring in political science or economics or some shit. Don't know how he studied _and _managed to go to parties (knowing Sammy, he never went to parties anyway). God knows I never could. Give me a demon over studying any day.

The real problem is Jessica. Sam's hot, but unfortunately dead as my machete girlfriend.

That night, after the night at Jericho, Constance Welch had almost managed to kill Sam after she took him to her home. I got there in time, and we found out why she kept blathering something about never being able to go back home and stuff. She couldn't go back because she had killed her children there and their ghosts still wait there for her. She couldn't face them, she felt guilty for their deaths. Even though she was the one who killed them. Women!

But she was hot, I'll give her that.

When she entered the house –actually we forced her to- her children came and as they hugged her (how sweet. Hug the lady who killed you) the three of them disappeared.

So anyway, Sammy decided he'd had enough hunting and went back to Stanford. I tried to convince him to at least stay back and figure out the cryptic codes Dad left us but he wouldn't listen. After he left, I'd had a bad feeling.

Something was about to go wrong.

So I followed.

Good thing too since when I went in, what I saw almost made me freeze on the spot. An incredible sense of Déjà-vu hit like a pile of bricks. For a second I couldn't do anything except watch but then another pile of bricks hit me on the head and I got back my senses.

Jessica was stuck to the ceiling –just like Mom- her face was pale and ghostly, a terrified expression etched across her face. And then she went up in flames and Sam wouldn't move. He just sat there, on the bed shouting Jessica's name. I had to do something. I couldn't sit there and helplessly watch all this happen again.

I didn't waste any time, I dragged him out of the apartment with him fighting against my grip like a vampire in the face of the sun. And I know what I'm talking about.

I don't want to repeat that ever again. But since that thing –whatever it is- is still roaming around in its Moth-Man undies, killing innocent people. I hope that wherever Dad is, he finally found the sucker and off-ed him. I can't help but feel that the deaths have something to do with our family. It's a gut feeling. And I trust my gut feeling for than anything.

So anyway, I don't want to turn into one of those philosopher dudes' with all that deep thinking shit.

So, yeah, I'm at the club right now –it's called Devil's Purple Egg's or something weird like that- downing my third bottle of beer, listening to the heavy metal music blaring from the speakers and watching drunken groping because I have nothing better to do. I got my fair share of come-hither looks but I decided to ignore them because most of the girls were reeking of other guys. One of them had a really nice set of racks but then I noticed her hairy legs halfway on our way to the back rooms. So you might've already guessed how well that worked out.

Suddenly I felt a cold feeling down my back. It felt as if a psychotic snowman was standing behind me. I subconsciously rubbed the back of my neck. It was weird. With all the weird stuff that happened in my life, I don't have a very high opinion of weird. Or cold shivers. Or psychos'. Or snowman.

I was having a strong feeling that something was about to happen. The kind of feeling, that when I get it, I completely ignore it until it actually happens.

And that's just what I did. Ignore it, I mean.

Two guys, probably 40 or something came and sat beside me at the bar. One was wearing a leather jacket, a t-shirt that read 'All da ladies love meh!' in big, black letters and a straw hat (what's up with that?) with pants that were too small for him. I didn't want to know what his ass looked like and neither did anyone else in the bar!

The other man looked like he would fit right into a poker party at a sea-side convention for drunken frat boys. Or forty something guys who badly need to get laid. He was small, but porky, with a huge potbelly. He was wearing a leopard print Hawaiian shirt with multicolor beach shorts.

Man, should people learn to dress these days or what?! OK, ignore the 'what'; they just need to learn how to dress.

"He didn't see it yet." The Leather Guy said in a really loud voice.

"He just has to look a little harder." Frat Pledge replied. Why are they so loud? The whole bar can probably hear them. Just my luck being stuck in a bar with no hot girls to get laid with; with two bad smelling hillbillies!

"Maybe the boy just needs a little urging?" Leather Guy said while chewing on a tobacco. Where did that come from? And who's this 'he' they're talking about?

"He's an idiot." Who?

"He's a bit dim alright! All he needs to do is look at his right."

Maybe it was on instinct but I turned my head to the right. And instead of seeing the entrance to the backrooms I saw this black door with a red pentagram drawn on it. Why would a door need protection?

_The door doesn't need protection you idiot! The room it leads to does! _Frat Pledges voice said in my head. Wait….

I turned towards them and saw both of them staring at me with yellow eyes. Like where the eyeballs should be, there was just lava. Their eyes looked normal a second ago!

I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I saw that right. But when I opened my eyes both of them were gone. I looked around but nobody seemed to have noticed a thing. Two yellow eyed, fat men just disappeared into thin air and they are still playing pool!

Sons of b****es!

I turned my attention back towards the door and my instincts hit me full force. Being a hunter really hones ones instincts. Mine probably shines like teeth in toothpaste commercials, it's so polished.

But this time a part of me was telling me that if I go through the door it will just complicate my life and if I don't then I will regret it.

Sammy used to tell me that I don't know what's good for me and you know what, he's probably right because I left my beer on the bar and walked to the door.

I don't know why I did it, really. Maybe it's because the voice said I'd regret it or something but the next thing I know is that I walked through the door. I didn't even pause to think if those two men were trying to lure me here on purpose and if I was walking straight into a trap. I'm like that sometimes. Most of the times. OK, all the time, so sue me!

I was in this gigantic room. There were stacks of books everywhere. Piled up on each other, on shelves on tables, strewn all over the floor. Not only that, there were parchments and stuff too. I looked around a little and each and every book was about something mythical –to be exact, what everyone else thinks is mythical except us hunters- and had titles like _The Four Horsemen _or _Gods and Goddesses of Old_ and even _Monsters That Can Kick Your Ass! _What is this place? Some kind of weird magical library? This is so friggin' crazy! _Man_!

So as I was looking around this one I was thinking _Man, whose library is this? The Beast from that Disney movie Beauty and the Beast's? _And don't ask me how I know that movie. It's a long story. A really long story.

My gaze fell on this old book. There was dust all over it so I blew on it. That just got more dust in my nose so after sneezing a couple of times I used my hand to clean it a little. It looked exactly like Dads journal! Only a more worn out version.

Before I could open it this picture slipped out and fell to the floor. I bent over and picked it up. There was something written at the back too. I turned it over and looked at the picture.

I couldn't believe my eyes at first. I blinked once. Twice. I thought I'd finally lost it so I turned the photo over to read the back.

The back was even worse!

I can't believe this! I just can't! This can't happen! It's not true! All these years and…

_Son of a b****!_

My phone rang in my pocket and I almost had a cardiac arrest.

It read _SAMMY_ _C.B_ (short for college boy) so I hit answer.

"Hel-"

"Dean, get over here, now! You _have _to see this! I think I know what the codes mean."

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**A/N: OK, this chapter was kind of filler. Someone asked me to write about what happened with the Woman in White and I was meaning to write about Jessica. I am so sorry you guys had to wait so long for this one but I promise I will not desert the Command Center until I've written at least half of the next one. Please don't kill me!**

**And again, sorry for the cussing in this chappy. **


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